


Not a Victory March

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 06:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20041501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: The words slip out quietly - unbidden, unintended. Charlie wants to take them back at once, and then she doesn't.





	Not a Victory March

**Author's Note:**

> Super quick prompt fill for "nonconsensual 'I love you's". 
> 
> I hadn't dabbled in this fandom in ages. It was fun revisiting those two! :D

"I love you."

The words slip out quietly - unbidden, unintended. Charlie wants to take them back at once, and then she doesn't. She's never been one for sentimentalities, but she feels what she feels, and life's too damn short to hold back. The sentiment feels right in a way she didn't think it ever would, with anyone, and least of all Monroe.

The rebuke comes at once, like she knew it would. Monroe's nothing if not predictable.

"Don't," he says, voice cutting through the quiet like a machete. He glares and pulls away, all the softness she was reveling in a few seconds ago gone at once.

She could let it go. But then, she's always been crap at letting things go, the dangerous devil-may-care stubbornness something she inherited from both sides of her family. So she does what she does best and pushes. Raises an eyebrow and makes sure the challenge comes through, the implied _What, the great General Monroe can't handle three little words?_

"Don't love you, or just don't say it?" 

"Both. Neither." He puts it down like a fact, frustratingly calm like he doesn't know she's spoiling for a fight or, more likely, he knows and refuses to give her an opening. "You don't love me. You're fooling yourself if you make this into more than it is."

Right, that bullshit again. The self-loathing 'you deserve better' crap was endearing for a hot second before it became annoying, and Charlie's out of patience. Pushing Monroe onto the mattress, she climbs on top of him, holding him down with hand-to-hand combat moves he taught her. 

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Monroe. And you sure as hell don't get to fucking tell me what I feel."

For a moment, Monroe looks like he wants to push her off, and she wonders if she should let him go or try to goad him into coming back by calling him a coward. It would work, probably, or maybe it wouldn't. He'll slam the door and she'll ignore him for a few days, until they'll clash over something dumb like a pair of angry alley cats and they'll end up fighting and fucking, the same way it always goes.

But when he sits up, he doesn't move away. Tangling his fist in her hair, he pulls her closer. 

"Fine. Just, stop talking." He sounds half-resigned, half-amused.

Charlie laughs quietly and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. I still love you, asshole," she says right against his lips before he shuts her up with a kiss.

End.


End file.
